


Support Relationship Remastered

by archaicGambit



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Injury, Light fantasy violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, extremely reserved romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7387795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archaicGambit/pseuds/archaicGambit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fix-it fic because I accidentally killed Soren during my Fire Emblem: RD playthrough! Luckily in-game he doesn't actually die, but I feel terrible for loosing his beautiful support relationship with Ike.</p><p>Written as closely as possible to the game as I've experienced it so far! (I'm still not done.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Support Relationship Remastered

            A flash of blue light flooded Soren’s vision as the Black Knight confronted him, and Soren fell backwards into the River, blood pooling out of his slashed dark robes. He coughed, choking as murky water filled his lungs.

            Was this it? He supposed he no longer had to worry about the cruelly slow pace his life was likely to take.

            “SOREN! Retreat!” He could hardly hear Ike as he submerge bellow the water, but his voice was unmistakable.  Soren felt arms loop around his middle, too slender to be the General’s. He was dragged above the surface. It was all he could do to cough up watery blood.

            “Ike…”

            “Brother! I’ve got him!” Ah. He was in Mist’s arms. Soren struggled to breathe, his throat burning. His robes felt so heavy.

            “Soren, aren’t you supposed to be my strategist? Use your head! I need your help.” Ike’s voice strained as he took on a Dragon Rider, armed only with his loyal Ettard.

            “As you command.” Soren spluttered under his breath. Mist groaned, slinging the mage’s arm over her shoulders.

            “We’ll get you to Titania and back to camp. Everything’s going to be fine!”

            As they stumbled away from the battle, Soren heard the deafening scream of a dragon. It resonated in his bones and made Mist tremble as well. He saw Jill’s dragon go crashing from the sky. The splash rippled out to where Mist and Soren stood, almost wiping the two small mercenaries off their feet.

            The Silver Haired Maiden’s voice rang across the field, calling for her people to cease fire. If only she had done so five minutes earlier.

   ~*~

Soren awoke in a medical tent, surrounded by unfamiliar Laguz. After all his years amongst the beast tribe, and finally earning their respect within the Alliance, he still felt a little paranoid when he looked at the sickbeds around him. He wondered how many of them could sniff him out. Half-breed. Placeless. _Please._ He reminded himself, _You’re the last thing anyone cares about right now._

Reyson the Heron Prince sat two beds down, two healers gently investigating one of his wings, the plumage marred with blood. The prince began to sing softly, a melody that numbed Soren’s aches. It felt as though the song sunk into his bones, an eerie sort of comfort. He drifted back to sleep.

~*~

“Little Strategist, My how this one sleeps!”

“Ike?”

“No, Skrimir!” Of course. Soren had been dreaming. How could he have mistaken Skrimir’s bellow for anything else.

Soren groaned.

“I came to walk among my injured soilders to increase morale!”

“You can consider my morale thoroughly boosted if you go away.”

Skrimir laughed, “I see I still do not impress you. Any Laguz would be enamored of my sheer strength, strategist. But I understand. You Beorc are of the mind.”

Soren merely groaned again in response.

“We have a meeting after dinner. Drink your concoction and perhaps your mood may be improved.”

“I was nearly cut in half by Daein’s most feared knight. Forgive me for not being my usual chipper self.” Soren’s sarcasm perhaps lost some effect from the strain and waver of his voice.

“General Ike says he needs you.”

That was all Soren had to hear.

~*~

Mist guided him to the meeting, letting him lean on her to preserve her energy. Soren was never quite sure how to interact with Ike’s little sister, weary of betraying the depth of his feelings about her brother. Truthfully, there was little resemblance between the siblings. Mist was small, pert nosed, strawberry blonde, and slender-built like Soren. In the past several years Ike had grown into a veritable bear, with broad shoulders and thick, dark hair.

Mist prattled on about the state of Soren’s ribs, which had been broken in his fight with the Black Knight, “You’re really doing incredibly well though, Soren.” Mist always had a façade of optimism. She seemed a little eager to please, but she was young, and Soren had seen how she struggled to be taken seriously by her general brother.

During their meeting, most of Soren’s energy went to standing and speaking. Such simple things required astronomical effort, moreso to not let his suffering show. Sometimes it was still hard for him to speak when he was under stress, and the injuries to his lungs and ribs did him no favors.

The party decided the only way through for them would be the Kauku Caves. General Zelgius would not be foolish enough to send anyone through the volcanic network of tunnels. At this point, Soren figured it’d be better for them to face nature than an army. It would be a difficult trip, especially for the injured, but it was better than continuing to traipse through the forest waiting to be attacked. Ike nodded solemnly, but said little. As the meeting ended, Mist began to escort him back to the medical tent. Soren watched Ike turn to speak with Ranulf, and felt a small twitch of jealousy.

 _He will stand side by Ike’s in this battle._ It was alright, Ike deserved others to support him. Ike deserved the world on a silver platter. But the Hero was too noble to desire such things, regardless. Honor, victory, a just cause and a friend to fight by his side: Soren had been there to provide that. Fighting with Ike near made him feel stronger, safer.

Now he was sending the Greil Mercenaries and the Laguz Alliance into yet another deadly fray, and he had yet to exchange more than 5 words with Ike since his return to camp.

Mist deemed Soren among those too injured to walk. He could either go on a Laguz’s back or be lifted in a stretcher between two Greil Mercenaries. Excellent choices: be carried by obligation out of someone who would be repulsed by his true heritage, or be a burden to his friends? Deep down, although he was loath to say it, he thought of the mercenaries as his family. Soren’s childhood had lacked so much- their companionship had been his first proper introduction to culture, to a sense of home.

The decision ended up being made for him. Mia and Shinon showed up with a stretcher between them at his cot.

“Special Delivery!” Mia smiled, Soren thought, a little too pityingly at him.

Soren was too tired to move. It took him about a minute of strained silence to speak. “I can’t get on that.”

“No problem.” Shinon grinned, “We can always take one of those feisty little cat girls instead, they’d probably make for better company.”

“I’d sooner claw your eyes out!” A Laguz girl called from across the tent.

Mia laughed, “Shinon, perhaps if you stopped describing the Laguz as “feisty” they’d be less inclined to dislike you?”

Shinon gaped, “I just think an exotic-“

“Ew! Quit while you’re ahead.” Mia winced at her comrade, and Soren was grateful it shut him up.

“Looks like you’re going have to do, friend. Get on.”

Soren’s whole body was numbed by the potions working to heal him, “…. I can’t.”

“You idiot!” Mia slapped Shinon across the chest. “He needs help.”

The tent suddenly went quiet. Soren strained his head to spot the source. Murmurs broke out among the healers and the Laguz, and Soren spotted a long red cloak in the corner of his eye- broad shoulders. Shit. What was General Ike doing here?

Soren wanted to cry. Ike had already seen him at his lowest point once before, and the realization was probably still fresh in his memory. Soren had sworn to himself he’d never let it happen again.

In his pain and stress, Soren felt out of touch with his surroundings for a moment. He did not register Ike quietly asking Mia & Shinon for a moment alone with him, and could not sense his presence until Ike had kneeled down by his cot.

Soren could not bear to look at him, to say anything. He closed his eyes hurriedly, pretending to be asleep.

Two strong, warm hands closed around his left hand. Ike had always been taller, but at this moment Soren felt truly dwarfed by him. He felt so small, pathetic at pretending to be asleep. But those big warm hands were also a lifeline, better than any vulnery or heron song.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come by sooner.” Ike’s voice was soft, especially for him. “Mist’s been giving me updates. Oh. And sorry for sending Skrimir to check in on you. Might’ve led him on a bit.”

Soren couldn’t resist cracking an eye open to give Ike one of his typical withering glares. To his surprise, Ike beamed.

“There you are.” Ike had grown so strong, so burdened by his leadership that Soren could not remember the last time he had smiled like that: boyish and uninhibited. “You can’t balme Skrimir for admiring you, you know. Not many survive their encounters with the Black Knight.”

Soren felt his face heat up, but he was powerless to say anything.

“I’m going to kill him properly next time, I swear…” Ike continued, loosening his grip on Soren’s hand, as though recanting the intimacy of his own words.

Words caught in Soren’s throat. _I would rather you lived._ He thought. _I would rather_ _the Black Knight became Emperor of Tellius and plunged it all into the sea if it meant you would live._

Instead, after a few moments, all he could say was, “I saw him slay Jill.”

Ike squeezed his hand, “She died a hero. It was so brave of her to join us in the middle of the fray. She had honor. She made her father proud. We cannot forget that.”

In a moment of tenderness Soren had never expected, Ike lifted his hand and pressed it to his lips, “I’m so glad the Black Knight didn’t take you too, Soren. I hope you know how important you are to the Greil Mercenaries. To me.”

Almost like Reyson’s song, Soren felt a serenity sink into his bones. His chest ached with a bittersweet love. Sadness at the friends they had lost, gratitude at the reciprocation of his affections _I do not deserve you, Ike._ Again, he felt on the brink of tears.

“Ike, promise me you’ll survive this.” Soren murmured. Ike got up, releasing his hand with a gentleness unbecoming of his stature.

“I promise we both will.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Em, I hope I have at least made my way potentially back into your good graces.


End file.
